Virgin Air - Cover

Virgin Air

Copyright© 2015 by Write or Wrong

Chapter 2

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 2 - Phil was a nineteen year old virgin on a trip home to see old friends. Little did he realize the trip was going to be an exploration of sexual discovery with a beautiful guide to share the journey. Authors Note: This story is based on the true experience of one of my readers. It has been altered and added to, but is rooted in reality. He asked me to add, "Thank you Lana, wherever you are, for the experience of a lifetime. I hope you remember our time together as fondly as I do."

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Heterosexual   True Story   First   Safe Sex   Oral Sex   Petting   Cream Pie   Public Sex   Slow  

Unable to concentrate on my book due to thoughts of my hot neighbor, I tried to doze while the plane took off. My tape had stopped, so I heard a stewardess on the cabin speaker inform us that we were free to move around the cabin. She also said that since the plane had been delayed they would be passing out complimentary headphones for the movie during the beverage service. The telltale rattle and clank of a beverage cart started up the aisle behind me as they were pushed up to the front of the cabin.

Slowly the drink carts progressed, row by row, back down the aisle. When they were still a row away I felt the woman beside me stir. She sat up, blinked several times and then let out a yawn as she stretched as much as the confined seating allowed.

"What have I missed?" She asked smiling and this time the smile reached into the depth of her captivating eyes.

"Nothing but the takeoff." I replied as a stewardess bent over to take our drink orders. Her nametag identified her as Kelly. Kelly quickly produced both drinks along with headsets and then moved to the next row.

I sipped the still warm soft drink before asking, "So what do you do?"

"I do some modeling and acting, but now I am trying to become a singer." With her looks I did not doubt her. Between the show she put on when storing things in the overhead compartment to watching her as she slept I knew she had a natural beauty that would land her lots of modeling jobs. But something about her expression, or maybe her voice, made me think there was more to the story than what she said. I was not worldly enough to think about what kind of modeling and acting she had been doing, but it did not matter because she quickly changed the subject.

"How about you?"

"Um, right now I'm a sophomore majoring in History."

"Ah, a college man." She said with a smile. "Why do you want to know about the past?"

"For me it is all about figuring out what motivated people in pivotal times."

"I can tell you that. Sex." I had been taking a sip of my drink and nearly choked on it. She laughed and continued, "Sex is the driving force behind everything. Politics, religion, hell even airplanes." She said with a sweeping arm motion to include the entire plane, "Stewardesses are sex symbols. Pilots are playboys. And even I have always wanted to have sex on an airplane."

"Same here." My mouth moved before I could stop it. It was true since I hit puberty the thought of having sex in a plane had been one of my fantasies. But saying it like that made it sound like a pick up line. A lame pick-up line at that.

"Oh really." There was a note of annoyance in her voice. I started to try and take the foot out of my mouth, but she glossed over by changing the subject saying, "Okay mister college man. Pop-quiz time." Our drinks were finished so she placed her cup on my tray-table and put her tray up. She picked up the in flight magazine and started to flip though the pages finally stopping at the maps in back.

"What's the subject?" I asked wondering how I could use this to get back to the topic I was interested in. Her.

She asked me geography questions, things I had not studied since elementary school. What is the capital of this state? Where is this country located? After a few minutes she started to run out of questions. I did not complain because I was starting to run out of answers. Finally she put the magazine back with a sigh and said, "I'm bored."

"Well, do you have any fantasies you would like to fulfill?" I could only half believe I'd asked it. A few years ago I would never have been that forward, at least out loud. But as I had gotten into better shape in college my self confidence had started to grow. And after watching this beautiful woman for the past half hour, my other head had taken over most of the thinking. Still the tremor from my hands reached into my voice.

She smiled and asked, "How old are you?"

"Nineteen."

"Jesus. I'm six years older than you."

"I would never have guessed more than three." It was the truth. She did not look like she was a quarter of a century old anymore than I looked twenty-one.

She smiled at the complement and then asked a question that I had not been expecting, "So how much experience have you had?"

"In what?"

"You know." She smiled broadly at me with a mischievous gleam in her enchanting eyes.

I thought about giving a macho answer, but I knew she would see past that. Besides I was not feeling macho. I felt like an inexperienced swimmer in unknown waters. Since I had such a low self image because of my weight, most of high school I could not imagine talking to cute girls like her, much less doing anything with them. I was smart and funny if you got me talking, but I spent my time reading books or hanging around my equally nerdy friends. My first kiss hadn't come until senior prom, and that was more out of pity than desire from my date.

In college my roommate, Mark, an ex-gymnast who was studying nutrition and Phys Ed, had taken me on as a project. Even though I had lost the flab and was now fairly ripped, I still thought of myself as the fat kid. So the one or two cold winter nights I got as far as making out with girls at college were often ruined by my poor self-image or by being too much of a gentleman. That was the extent of my hands-on experience. I knew plenty of theory from magazines and movies, but in practice I was untried. And in the end I told her just that.

"That's what I thought." She said before turning her head and looking out the window at the moonlit clouds sweeping below them. "This theory, does it come from porn?"

"Some. I like stories or letters like in Penthouse." I admitted feeling myself turn fire engine red even as my cock hardened down my leg. "Some from novels. Some from movies."

"You must masturbate a lot."

I guessed she was trying to fluster me, so I decided to be as blunt, "Every chance I get."

"What gets you hot in those stories?" she said in a near whisper.

I leaned towards her nearly whispering too. "Um ... stories about sex in public, people being so turned on they just have to do it. I also like the voyeur and multiple partner stories."

"More girls or more guys?"

"Both."

It was hard to tell in the low light, but she looked a little flushed when she looked back. Her eyes dropped to my lap and took in the appreciatively large bulge that had grown there. She unconsciously licked her lips and asked, "When you are beating your meat, what do you think about doing?"

"Everything. I think about kissing girls, tasting them, touching them all over. And of course sliding deep inside them. Hearing them scream as we both cum."

She did not say anything, but just sat looking at my lap. Finally I asked, "Are you seeing anyone?"

"No, not for awhile."

I could not believe this was happening. I crossed my arms because my hands were shaking too much. After she studied me silently for a few minutes I asked, "Well?"

"So what do you purpose, we just walk into the bathroom together and go at it?" She said quietly finally looking up at me. For the first time I realized she was nervous too. That realization helped me gain some composure and take the final few steps. I took her hand off the arm rest and kissed it.

"If you are worried about the other passengers, ask yourself, will you actually ever see any of them again in your life? If you are worried about doing this, I understand. Just the fact that you considered the offer means a lot to me. If you don't want to do anything, then that is that. We'll just enjoy our dry chicken dinner and dull movie and say goodbye at the end of the flight. Okay? But if we do go through with this, it will be an experience we remember forever." As I spoke I held her hand and looked into her eyes, watching speckles of green dance in the field of blue.

"Okay." She said returning my gaze for a moment. Then she asked, "Do you have any protection?"

My heart, which had been beating double-time, nearly stopped. I had never needed protection before and never thought I might on this flight. So I saw my chances slipping away as I confessed, "No." As an afterthought I asked, "I guess you don't either?"

"Yes, I do." She reached for her purse and rooted around until she pulled out a condom wrapped like a gold coin. "Are you sure you want to lose your virginity like this?"

"Yes!" I said trying to contain myself.

"Let's go before I lose my nerve."

I stood up and let her out into the isle. She took my hand and led me to the rear of the plane where we joined the short line for the closest of the six lavatories. She leaned against me, bringing the swell of her hip to my front. I knew she could feel me throbbing as she rubbed against me while shifted her weight from foot to foot like she needed to pee. The top of her head came just below my eyes, so the clean fragrance of her black hair filled my world. I ran my hand down her back to the crack of her ass and up into the heat between her legs. My movement was slow and small, so the other passengers in line would not notice.

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